Returning
by JustAnotherWriter98
Summary: He was alive, breathing, reborn. Cerulean eyes darted about. This world he woke up in, while beautiful, was a nightmare; in this world, Italy loved Germany. Adult!HRExItalyxGermany.
1. Chapter 1 - Awake

Where was he…?

He felt around himself, his range limited; his arms confined to his side, and his legs unable to move properly. Where was he again…? He wanted to curse – he disliked not being able to move, much less be stuck lying immobile on something – he didn't know exactly what. Then again he felt like his energy had been drained, he was weak, both physically and mentally.

Had he died in war…?

The last thing he remembered was the sound of soldiers, charging on horseback, fighting the enemy. Such brave, gallant men – but who was the enemy again? Flashes of light, screams of pain, a yell – for him, maybe – his memory failed him. He dug through his mind; what had become of him anyway?

Something blunt irritated his side; it was rough – a stone? He did not know; he was not sure whether he could trust his sense of touch or not – after all he, while not exactly a human, relied on his sense of sight like others.

Small as it was, a sudden flash of light seemed to blind him through closed eyelids. Was he in heaven – or another place of its equivalent?

The hole, the light, grew steadily larger – like the opening of the gates of heaven. He wanted to move, but remained glued to his spot. The light grew – it seemed so close, just a few steps and he would be entering through those huge gates.

He desperately wanted to walk towards the opening.

Gathering all of his strength, he lifted himself up. Head free from whatever restrained him earlier, he slowly pulled himself up, and in a few seconds his body was free too.

A hand made its way to rub one eye. His eyes slowly fluttered open, but quickly closed. The light hurt his eyes, being unused for who-knows-how-long could do that to someone. His body felt the strain too. He continued to stand, trying to endure the pain he felt all over.

He opened his eyes again; when he was sure enough he could endure the light.

Odd… he did not remember being tall.

He looked around. He did not recognize the place, but he felt attached to it in some way. Trees towered over his form, seeming to touch the wide beautiful blue above. He tried reaching for the sky, holding out his hand and stretching it until it cannot go any further. The earth beneath was lush with grass, except for that one patch of dirt in the ground – where he had woken up. This world, different from what he'd grown up in, was beautiful. He really wondered if he was in heaven.

He couldn't be – in heaven, there was no sadness, no pain; at least, that was what he was told and what he perceived it to be. There was still a lingering feeling in his chest that he couldn't brush off.

_I'll be waiting…_

That voice – he remembered. The voice was sweet like honey, and it made him blush around like a madman whenever he heard it. A voice that could make him happy in every way possible, he loved it.

That same voice was what kept him alive through all the hardships he suffered when he was alive.

He sighed. Was he in hell then?

No – hell was filled with sadness and never ending pain. While the feeling in his chest did not fade, he was very sure that it was nothing, something left over from his past life.

That still couldn't satisfy his curiosity. Then… had he been reborn?

He was startled when he heard a small _squeak_ beside him. He knelt down and picked up something small and furry. Funny – rats used to scare him back then; they were filthy abominations capable of wiping out an entire empire with their disease.

"Was it you that woke me?" He was surprised; he did not remember his voice being that low.

A twitch of the nose, the rat did not answer back in the way he expected. Did it mean yes? The furry little creature wiggled out of his grip and scurried over to the hole in the ground. He followed him; it was like the rodent was showing him something. Cerulean eyes peered inside the hole.

He took out a large black hat, decorated with gold. His eyes widened a bit; he held something special, part of his identity – the hat of the Holy Roman Empire.

So he had died, laid to rest in this place – and been reborn centuries later… he wondered; his empire had crumbled and dissolved centuries ago, how could he be reborn?

He looked further in the hole in the ground. He fingered the torn black fabric he found – probably from his tunic.

Wait a minute, if these were from his clothes then –

.

.

.

!

A cold breeze blew his way, and he shivered. He grabbed a few fallen branches; how did he not realize he was stark naked in a forest? He blushed in embarrassment; he probably looked like a ripe red apple.

He grabbed whatever he could from the hole. He sighed; the pieces of cloth were not enough to cover him. The rat, almost forgotten in the boy's dilemma, nibbled on a blade of grass. It ran away, leaving the male.

Meanwhile, Holy Rome worried about being nude.

OoOoOoO

He cursed; tearing another leaf. How was he going to finish his makeshift clothing? He got another leaf, and broke that one too.

He was about to give up when he heard that familiar squeak.

_The rat had gone?_

Holy Rome did not pay attention to it at first, until he saw the fabric in the rodent's mouth. The animal stopped in front of him and dropped the cloth.

_Clothes… this creature gave me clothes?_

He held the clothing in the air. It was a plain button down shirt, light blue in color. It was a bit big for him; this was clearly meant to be worn by a heavyset, muscular man – it would not fit, he was of lean build. Nevertheless, he wore it. It was long, reaching below the crotch area.

As he fiddled with the buttons – his fingers were still a bit shaky, another gift was dropped near him, a pair of trousers. He slipped them on; he did not particularly care about not having underwear.

In a few minutes, he was dressed and ready – but, for what?

He decided to pursue what he wanted back then – a nation he held so dear.

Italy.

_I loved you…_

I'm coming back…

_Since the 900s..._

Wait for me…?

OoOoOoO

It's been a while since I wrote and a while since I updated any of my other fics. I just want to say something.

I hate writer's block.

My mind's been blank for a while, so I decided to try and think of something. I read something about rebirth of nations in Hetalia, and then old questions about HRE resurfaced.

One of those was: "What if HRE, all grown up, was reborn? What if he isn't Germany? What if HRE, Italy, and Germany all met? What would happen?"

Ok… that wasn't really one question. Well, it lead to this. Please tell me if I made HRE OC in this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia...


	2. Chapter 2 - Confusion

A hand made its way toward the rough bark of one of the many trees around him. He hadn't seen a tree like this before. He retracted his hand like the tree itself was burning like hot stones. He gripped some of his gold locks; he grunted as another wave of pain radiated through his body. Countless years of sleeping had, without a doubt, taken a toll on his body. Otto simply shrugged this off after the pain had dulled a bit; he had experienced worse.

_Like being whisked away into battle after their goodbye._

He started walking again, becoming faster when he saw a light through the thick foliage. His mind started wandering off, and soon the sounds of crunch of the leaves under his feet and the occasional squeak from his little rodent friend (_Why did it continue to follow him?)_ were drowned out of his ears.

What had kept him alive after all of these centuries?

Was the Holy Roman Empire raised from the ashes of defeat?

Was he, Otto, alive because of the sheer willpower of his people?

Or could it be that he was –

"Woah!" Fair skin collided with earth. The blond stood up, wincing as he tasted blood from his cheek. "Ow…" A squeak came from the mouse beside him. Otto smiled at the animal and wiped the crimson liquid with the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm fine." He looked at a rather large rock behind him (Maybe it had been the cause for his fall?)

The mouse squeaked again.

"I really am. I'm fi – "

The Holy Roman Empire was cut short by the sight before him. He was out of the "forest". Green grass was to be seen around him. Not a lot of people were in the area, just a few who were chatting or lying asleep in the grass. Wooden benches surrounded the area, most were under trees like those in the "forest".

Otto facepalmed. He wasn't in a forest, that fact he realized. He was in a park of some sort, judging by the looks of it. No, it wasn't because of the huge sign about two meters from him that read "Park". Yep, certainly not that.

He started walking farther from the "woods" that he came from. He was slow and steady, carefully looking where he was stepping. He did not want to land face first into the ground again. Besides, he would get himself dirty, and it wasn't like he could get another change of clothes on such short notice.

_Grrrrrrr…_

Otto blushed. Country or not, he was sure that his stomach needed food.

Wait… does that mean he could die of hunger?

But he slept through centuries without food, right?

Had he actually –

_GRRRRRRR…!_

Okay. Enough thinking. He was pretty sure he saw some people eating a… what exactly are they eating? He'd never seen a food that was… how could he describe it? It was spherical in shape… they came in many colors… placed on a brown cone shaped thing? What was it? He had also seen cherries on top… and weird line shaped things with the colors of the rainbow.

A man passed by him. He was holding one of those weird concoctions. Holy Rome's stomach grumbled again. He tugged at the man's sleeve.

"Excuse me dear sir," he started, he was always the one to use manners in front of strangers, "But what is that?" he said, pointing at the object in the man's right hand.

"You mean this ice cream cone?" the man asked, his blue eyes filled with something like disgust. Otto merely nodded in reply.

The man stood there standing, and then he started to smile. Soon loud laughter filled the air. Otto stared in confusion. Why is he laughing…?

A tan hand made its way to his face, wiping the tears out of his eyes. "Duuuude… " the man said in between chuckles, "Do you live under a rock or something? I can't believe you don't know what ice cream is!"

"I beg your pardon?" the young blond man asked. Were people in this era uncivilized? He had only met one since he woke up, and unfortunately he wanted to mark the humans of the "modern times" as rude idiots. Did they not have manners?

The man continued on his way, away from the once powerful nation. The man was still laughing; and Otto felt like he wanted to shrink into nothing or kill the nearest breathing thing he could see. To him, it was an insult to his profile.

'_Patience, Otto… patience…'_

He regained his composure and tried to look for the source of the alleged _popular _ice cream. But it got him thinking: 'Why would anyone freeze cream? Let alone _eat _it?' He shrugged it off, however, when he saw a vehicle (or what he assumed to be one) and a man handing out the bizarre item.

OoOoOoO

"What flavour would you like sir?"

Otto blinked thrice before he understood the question. So these ice cream-thingies came in flavours? But what to choose… he didn't know what flavours were to be had. He tried to think of possible food this thing came with, but couldn't think of anything.

"Hurry up," a woman said angrily behind him, "You're holding the line! Just choose something already!"

Otto decided to ask the man in front of him what he would recommend, and came up with three choices: chocolate, vanilla, and pistachio. He did not know what the latter was but it looked green, which turned him off. Chocolate and vanilla, on the other hand, were prized back then. Chocolate he had eaten were always far too bitter, so he went with vanilla instead.

The stout man laughed, which earned another huff from the woman beside him. Really, Otto could feel that the woman was ready to strangle him. He could already feel her hot, murderous breath at the back of his neck.

The man gave him a cone (or whatever he called it) of white ice cream. The former nation felt a bit reluctant to take the strange food item, but with the woman behind him, he took it. Then something hit him.

_This costs money! How and what am I going to pay him? What do they even use nowadays?! Please don't let it be gold… Please don't let it be silver either… But don't let it be bronze! What is the Holy Roman Empire to do?_

Unknowing to him, another man came up next to him and put a few paper notes in the vendor's outstretched palm.

"There. Now stop standing like a statue and move already." A commanding voice spoke to him. Otto snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the man. He was taller than him and had no other qualities that distinguished him from the crowd except for his muscular build and formal get-up.

"Well? There are other people in the line too you know."

Otto moved. The man started walking away from him and the people seemed to become happier and relaxed. Licking his ice cream cone, he moved on to his next task. His feet were tired and felt like they were about to break, and to add insult to injury, most of the benches around him were already packed with people. So trudging along, he made his way towards north.

OoOoOoO

He kept on walking (in agony, mind you) he saw a bench occupied by one person. His spirits immediately went up, and it wasn't because he found an empty space, but rather the person that occupied it. Brown locks, fair skin, and golden eyes: his long lost love.

_But surely it is her, right? No one else has that stubborn curl sticking out the side… surely no one else has it? But why has she kept her hair so short? She could easily be mistaken for a man!_

Ice cream, hunger, and sore feet forgotten, the Holy Roman Empire dashed toward the bench, toward the woman, toward his love.

"Italy!" Otto said, his arms wrapped around the other nation's neck, his head buried in hers, "I missed you so." White hot tears flowed down his face, tears he didn't know he had. The other person in his arms however, was stiff as marble, and as silent as the night.

The receiver of his hug could only blink in confusion. Who was he?

Otto could feel that something was off; he felt that something wasn't right. "Italy… don't you remember me?" Saying that sentence nearly broke his heart; the possibility that his childhood friend and love forgetting him nearly broke his heart.

And it only crushed it further when he didn't receive a reply. Holy Rome buried his head amongst the auburn strands.

"Let go of Italy!" the same commanding voice from earlier boomed, "He doesn't know you!"

Otto's head shot up at the mention of that one word.

_He…?!_

"Who are you to order me around like that?" he replied, letting go of Italy. The confused nation hurriedly raced into the other man's arms. "And what do you mean he?! Italia is a woman!"

The man, blond locks, blue piercing eyes and all, flinched at both the touch of the golden eyed person hugging him and the lunatic cries of the other man he had met earlier.

_Italy… woman?!_

"You obviously do not know about us nations, assuming you are a smart enough idiot to know what we are. And _Italia_ is a _man_."

The words stung Holy Rome's heart and mind. He felt like he was about to burst in that very moment. "That's it! This time is complicated, hurtful, _heart-breaking_!" he yelled, causing the other two to stand in surprise and fear (for Italy at least). "If Italy doesn't remember me, then shoot me dead; let me sleep forever so I can dream about the little girl in the green dress I had known before as Italia!"

And with that, he ran away. He didn't bother to look at their reactions; they could be laughing for all he cared. He was crushed.

_Why had I been woken up… to see that Italy had forgotten me, that our promise was broken, that she – _**he **_was with someone else?_

_Why did I have to see?_

_Why did I have to hear it – I've been forgotten._

_Why did I hope?_

_Why did I try?_

_Why did I have to experience heartbreak again?_

_Why am I alive?_

Unknown to him however, Italy had been screaming his name.

OoOoOoO

Yeah. I planned on posting this up a week ago, but school is stealing my time. I also planned on updating all my other fics a week ago, like _Madhouse_ and _Winter. _Well same reason as above.

Tell me again if HRE was OOC, not OC. I failed last chapter by putting OC. OTL.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.


	3. Chapter 3 - Brother

"_A coward." _ he said to himself, _"A filthy coward unable to face the harsh reality of it all; that is what I have become."_

Otto didn't know where he was going, but he ran. Anywhere, just away from her – _him_, he remembered. It hurt; everything. His body ached, his spirits were crushed, and his heart was shattered. What did a man do when he was rejected? Back in his day, they probably hanged themselves if the pain was too great to overcome; but what about now?

His surroundings were a blur to him, but why would he care? He dashed in and out of crowds, leaving the people startled and surprised.

"_Immortality," _he whispered as he ran through the crowds, _"I still don't understand why so many would kill for it. Nothing good comes out of it, maybe for the first few years but never beyond that." _He made another turn, _"It leaves you alone, with your loved ones dead and yourself standing among them. Experiencing deaths, and fights, and wars, seeing everyone age while you don't." _He slowed down as he reached a large swarm of people, _"It is not a blessing, nor is it a curse, merely a hindrance that leaves you depressed."_

He moved faster when he saw the crowd thinning out, and eventually disappearing. He began to think about his situation again.

'_Useless as it may seem, I still cannot get over the fact that I am alive. Illogical, why would I remain standing?'_

Otto was so caught up in his musings that he nearly slipped on a piece of paper. He steadied himself, and regained his composure, then he bent down and picked it up.

' "_Germany"? What is "Germany"? A city, a town, a kingdom, or, perhaps, a country…?'_

He continued to walk, the map in his hands. He puzzled three minutes.

'_Does that mean that… there is a nation representative of Germany as well? Could it be that – '_

"Who is the fucking un-awesome idiot –" a loud voice said. Otto rubbed the back of his head, wincing at the pain that ran through his spine. He grabbed his hat, and looked around, and then his eyes widened.

'_The map; where is it?!'_

He lay sprawled on the pavement, with his arms flying about. He decided that it was probably useless now to look for the piece of paper; it could have flown away by now, he thought. He stood up, hat in hand, and brushed dirt off his clothes.

The man's unusual blood red eyes, widened in surprise at his height, or at least he thought it was his height. Otto, though angry at the loss of the map, started to bow and mutter apologies, and looked around for any items the person may have dropped. Seeing none, except for a tiny yellow chick, he stretched his hand out to the stranger.

The man lay there like a statue, skin pale as if he'd seen a ghost, and wild hair ruffled in every direction. The chick beside him chirped, and that made the strange person grab Otto's hand. In one swift motion, he was pulled up from the ground. Both men's eyes widened at the unusual strength the golden haired boy possessed; they stood in silence for about a minute or two, with the odd one of the two looking at the large headwear in the other's hand. A small squeak broke the ice as a little mouse scurried next to Otto.

'_Why, I'd forgotten about this fellow! Despite being left behind, it followed me here… had it developed an attraction to me?'_

"I-is that you, bruder?"

Otto's head whipped back to the male in front of him, and quickly examined him head to toe with a puzzled expression on his face. He stood eye to eye with him, and the stranger was leaner than he. He didn't look strong, but the pride hiding in his eyes told Otto that this man was not to be messed with. He could tell that he was powerful, his appearance strange as it was.

And it irked him. Every single detail, it reminded him of someone. He had a feeling that he was different, like… they were the same. Could it be…?

"Gilbert?"

Gilbert nodded his head, with an expression of ecstasy smeared on his face. He didn't know what happened next, but he felt two arms around him.

"OTTO!" the white haired male cried, "Bruder, I missed you! Where were you at?" Gilbert let go, but proceeded to drag him to a nearby café. "Wait! Don't tell me now, let's go to this awesome place and then tell me." Otto simply smiled.

"This is so awesome! Kesesesese~"

At this, Otto sighed. This was going to be a long day.

OoOoOoO

Gilbert's trademark laugh boomed through the air; Otto smiled sympathetically at the waitress. He wanted to shut Gilbert up, but couldn't bring himself to do so; the kingdom was simply too endearing, annoying as he was.

"So that will be two plates of wurst and…" the waitress said in a monotone voice; Otto could clearly see her displeasure, "ten bottles of beer." She then walked to the counter, and looked like she took a deep breath, and then shouted, "ORDER UP!", so loudly that everyone, even those outside, looked at her. Amazingly, she managed to yell in a monotonous tone, and it scared the living shit out of Otto.

When he turned back to his brother however, Gilbert sat there staring at him, not blinking at all. This went on for five seconds, before Otto decided to ask something he wanted to ask before.

"How on earth did you find out?"

Gilbert blinked. "Only Otto Beilschmidt , the Holy Roman Empire, wore that hat," he stopped, and Otto looked like he was about to retort, "that lived. Only a nation, even former ones like me, could survive so long." Otto shrank back into his seat. The mouse under the table, who he nicknamed Chriselda (the rodent was female), squeaked.

'_Former… nation? What is Prussia babbling about? We are all nations, aren't we?'_

He looked at the 'ex-nation'. His head hung low, but he quickly looked up when he saw the other one staring. "Former?"

Gilbert flinched slightly. "Ja, former. The kingdom of Prussia is dissolved, but I represent half of a present nation, Germany." he said, voice low. "So today, while I am called Prussia by most, my formal name is East Germany, part of _Bundesrepublik Deutschland_."

It took a while before Otto processed it, but he immediately became curious when Gilbert said that word, "Germany" – the name on the map.

"Germany? Tell me, bruder, where are we now?" Gilbert nearly fell off of his seat when Otto nearly leaped out of his, but mouthed the word – "Germany" – again. Otto sat back down, people were looking at him, and he shouldn't have burst like that. "Does this country, 'Germany', have another nation representative? You said that you were the East, so what of the West? The North? The South?" he sounded desperate, "Tell me, bruder, how many of you are there?"

Gilbert had a surprised and slightly terrified look on his face; Otto had never acted like this in the centuries he knew him. "There are only two of us, the West and the East." Gilbert said, easing back into his chair, his voice still low, "Why do you even want to know? You are not one to sound so desperate." Otto squirmed slightly at this.

He buried his head in his hands, gripping the blond locks lightly. "I don't know either, Gilbert." Otto said, face still in his hands, "I just don't know… hearing that name – 'Germany', it made my mind nag on and on."

OoOoOoO

"This is so fucking awesome!" Gilbert boomed, a light laugh following shortly after, "I don't believe you, Otto. That story sounds so… fucking stupid!" Many of the patrons ignored him, except for the occasional glance from a child, and their parents who urged them to sit back properly in their chairs. "Really, 'I just woke up in the middle of a park, buried in dirt', classic! 'My clothes were ripped apart, so I stood nearly half an hour naked', even better! Your balls must have been flapping in the breeze!"

Otto felt a migraine coming on. "That's what really happened, Gilbert." he said, sipping his drink, a nice bottle of cold beer, "Except for the balls part, that is."

'_Gilbert probably hadn't heard anything I said… for an ex-nation he really is a happy – '_

Ex-nation. Former. Non-existing. That troubled Otto.

'_So what has become of the Holy Roman Empire? Is it…?'_

Otto shook his head.

'_No! It must have… survived, it has to be…!'_

"Gilbert."

Said albino wiped a tear from his eye, turning toward his brother. "What is it –" he stopped when he saw the serious look on the blue eyed boy's face. "Otto…? You okay there, bud?"

"What… happened to the Holy Roman Empire?"

Gilbert gulped, hard. "Eh... Holy Rome is… um…"

"Gilbert, I'm being serious here." Otto said, "I won't get angry or anything. Just tell me."

Gilbert sighed. How was he going to say it as nicely as possible? 'Hey, HRE is dissolved!' No way. 'Guess what – your country is dead!' Fucking worse. 'So yeah you know… HRE is not a country anymore.' The best of the three, but still horrible. "Gone."

Otto blinked. Gone? "What do you mean by 'gone'?" It couldn't be. No, it possibly couldn't be true! He's still alive, isn't he?

"You know what I mean, bruder," Gilbert said, keeping a straight face, "Fucking gone. Disappeared. Dissolved. Dead. What more could you possibly want to hear?"

Otto looked down to the ground. "So, it really is true…?" Gilbert nodded his head. "I… I'll defy it! I'll show you, the Holy Roman Empire survived! Why on earth would I be here then?"

Gilbert shook his head in disappointment. "Don't. You'll only hurt yourself trying."

"I don't care!"

It was useless, Prussia knew this. Maybe he could try to change the subject? "You know… Italy comes by often here, in Germany."

Otto looked up.

"I remember how you loved and pined for that nation." the albino said; Otto blushed, "Grew up pretty fucking cute… ah Ita-chan, kesesesese~"

'_Wait… does that mean… Italy is a girl all along? Prussia didn't mention anything about a male Italy…'_

He thought about it.

'_I remember! Italy had an older brother, didn't she? I remember him… a feisty one… Romano! Does that mean… I hugged Italy's brother?!'_

Gilbert stood up. Otto wondered why, but then he recalled that they had finished eating earlier. He watched as the representation of Prussia placed a few pieces of paper on the table.

"What are you standing there for?" he said, "Let's go fucking home already. I'll show you the kingdom of awesome!" Otto smiled. "You go ahead outside, though. The awesome Gilbird and I need to take a piss." His brother nodded and went out the door.

Prussia made it to the bathroom. Inside he steadied himself on the wall, and muttered to himself. He wallowed in self-pity at the events that unfolded earlier. "Stupid… so fucking stupid!"

"Why'd you have to make this so fucking difficult Otto? First you ask me about the Holy Roman Empire, I'm fine with that but really, that hopeful look after I told you about Feliciano?" Gilbert banged his fist five times. "I know you loved Italy but why can't you accept it?"

"I'm fucking sorry… Otto."

OoOoOoO

Wow, that was possibly the longest chapter I have ever written for a multi chaptered story. I'm so sorry this took so long… school is seriously _taking over my life. _OTL.

Thank you for all those who reviewed. If you're wondering, I chose the name Otto for HRE after I saw this headcannon for him that this was his name (if he was not Germany, but come on! They have to be the same person!) And if anybody here also reads Madhouse… don't worry, the next chapter is coming soon, just wait and blame school life.

Sheesh being a student is tough.

Thanks again for reading! Let me know if anyone is OOC, I don't bite!


	4. Chapter 4 - Home

Otto fingered the fabric once more, careful to feel the beauty of the craftsmanship and effort put into the piece of cloth. "I still can't believe that this blanket, this bed, is just for a little chick that's barely the size of my hand!" He continued to admire the little but detailed pattern of a crown in the royal blue cloth and the little rhinestones embedded in it, while Gilbert laughed nasally behind him.

"Of course," he boomed, "the right hand man to the King of Awesome can't live in scraps of mainstream newspaper, like every other un-awesome dog and cat in the world." Otto almost jumped at the sudden arm swing around his shoulder; Prussia laughed.

Otto looked confused. "But bruder," he said, brushing off his brother's arm, "why do you live in the cellar? Why not upstairs with your nation brother –"

Gilbert waved a hand in front of Otto's face. Otto blinked; he swore he saw a tinge of sadness flash in his eyes, if only for a second. "First, it's a basement." he said, "An _awesome_ basement. Besides it's fucking awesome being alone here; I get to plot my awesome pranks for April Fools!"

_April Fools? What on earth is April Fools? Wait, enough of this now._

"You like being alone?" he asked, with a confused frown adorning his features, worryingly, "In this dingy room, to lie on that dirty bed that's been repaired too many times? You revel in those unwashed sheets, worn by time and beaten by the elements? You live in this haphazard room, yet you let that bird of yours live in absolute luxury? Gil," Otto shook his head, "Why?"

The albino wouldn't admit it, but what his brother said, it was a blow below the belt, it hurt his pride. Otto stood there, waiting for an answer. Gilbert didn't know what to say.

"Ja, I enjoy staying here!" he said, raising his voice, and filled it with a merry tone, "Why would you doubt that?" He pushed past Otto, toward the various shelves where little furniture lay neatly.

He ran his fingers across the grain of the dark wood of a little dresser, while the bird on his head hopped to the miniature bed. The room fell silent, and a heavy aura seemed to surround the four. His brother's mouse squeaked. The once grand Prussia focused on the own grandeur of the jewel encrusted objects.

The silence was eating Otto, and it didn't exactly help that his brother stood there staring blankly into space, and that his hands had stopped moving. He sighed and lightly tapped the nation's shoulder, his hat clutched in the other. He jumped in surprise of the touch; he'd gone to the realm of dreams of splendour and glory days. Otto parted his lips for a moment. "Why don't we go upstairs?"

OoOoOoO

When the two brothers reached the upper floor, no one had expected the sight of a certain bespectacled man and fierce looking woman. All of their eyes widened, their mouths slightly open. One of the strange visitors closed his eyes, a slightly annoyed expression written across his face, and then coughed.

He placed the cup he was holding on the table, and crossed his arms. "What on earth took you so long Gilbert?" The woman fixed her dress a bit, and then set her eyes on the duo on the first step of the stairwell. "And who is that with you?"

Prussia looked slightly angry, but his eyes had a twinkle of mischief in them. Before he could speak, however, the blond beside him stepped towards the duo.

"Austria…?" Otto turned to his left, and studied the woman beside him, "Hungary…?" The two were confused about this boy's strange appearance. "You two look _older_ than I remembered… Is it really you? Tell me; please do, if you are indeed the Roderich and Elizaveta I know."

The nations in front of him looked perplexed. Who was he? Elizaveta studied him carefully with slightly narrowed eyes. Golden hair, sapphire eyes, ivory skin… he looked like any ordinary citizen walking the streets of Berlin, but something about him felt different. He had this weird… feeling around him, like they've known each other for centuries.

Her eyes drifted downward to his clothes. Otto felt uncomfortable with the woman's eyes probing over him, but his stance did not waver. He had long since changed out of shirt and pants that were so terrifyingly too big for him, and now wore a bright red "t-shirt" as his brother told him that fit his torso and "denim jeans" that hugged his legs, thin as they were. Then he saw the woman widen her eyes as her gaze shifted to the hat in his grasp.

"Is it really…" she whispered, her hand making its way to his face, "Is it really you, Holy Roman Empire?" Roderich looked shocked and surprised; Otto nodded. The frying pan in her hand fell forgotten onto the couch she was previously sitting in; her arms encircled around his torso. "It really is you! You've grown so much."

They stayed in that position for only a few seconds, before she let him go, and now Otto was completely devoid of air. While trying to regain his composure, Austria stood up and offered a hand to him. "Well?" the spectacled man said, "I don't have all day to greet you." Otto got the message and gingerly shook the elder's hand.

_Still soft as ever, Roderich. Have you not done any strenuous work while I was gone? Elizaveta, on the other hand… well hers is calloused. She really is the man out of the two of them…_

He smiled at the thought, but was soon gone when Gilbert crept beside the aristocrat male. "So tell me already," he said, startling Roderich and making Elizaveta become wary of him. She flashed a warning glare to the albino, which unfortunately, being the idiot he was, bounced off of his thick skull. "What the fuck are you doing here in Berlin, four-eyes? And why'd you decide to bring the psychotic bitch with you?"

The previously forgotten frying pan was in the Hungarian's grasp in a flash. "If you must know, you better give me the money you owe me." Austria said. Gilbert shook slightly, and the two of them were unaware of the furious female right behind the big headed idiot Prussia.

"What money?" the albino spat out, making the violet eyed man beside him shut his eyes in annoyance. Otto raised a finger toward the looming nation above Gilbert.

Hungary raised her frying pan with a smile that could scare children away, and her eyes were darker than usual and had a flare in there that screamed, "Murder!" Roderich argued with Gilbert. "The money I need to repair my house. Money to buy another violin and piano." he said, "I need somewhere to stay, and where else than the house of the one that left mine shambles?"

Gilbert smirked. "Well go fuck yourself," he said, "You're not gonna get anything from me. Because the bitch you called your wife – "

The albino fell to the floor in a heap. Hungary had hit her mark, and Otto was sure that his brother wouldn't be getting up soon. When Austria turned to her, she was shaking with rage. "Serves you right, asshole. Stupid Prussian bastard, calling me a bitch and treating Roderich like dirt will ensure you a future in the hospital!"

Otto was quite dazed by the events that unfolded. He knelt down and shook his brother. The creaking of the door went unnoticed by all of them.

"What the – ?!"

Everyone, with the exception of the knocked out nation on the floor, turned their heads to the source of the sound. There in the doorway stood a tall, muscular man. He looked like someone you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley at midnight; and with the scowl on his face, he looked utterly terrifying. His presence was like that of a monster straight out of a nightmare.

Otto's blue orbs widened.

_It's! It's! It's that guy from the park! The one with – _

A small whimper came from behind the hulking man, someone, someone scared, was hiding behind him. It sounded like they were crying. Slowly, the person's head peered out of hiding behind the man, and a bouncy curl presented itself.

Out of the blue, came the person Otto least wanted to see right now. He could feel his eyes water oh so slightly, and he heard the pieces of his shattered heart fall to the pit of his stomach, it was so loud to him that it hurt. Brown hair, golden eyes, and a face rimmed with tears…

_Italy…? Or Romano…?_

"Germany…?" Austria said, "Good thing you're here. Just about time."

OoOoOoO

Sorry for the long wait, but I love you all, and as a present, I give you another chapter of _Returning_! So Austria, Hungary, Germany and Italy (or Romano, that is if you truly believe HRE that he saw him instead of his childhood love) have joined the party! Unfortunately, all that's heading for them is bucketfulls of drama. Good thing, Prussia's there, or they'd all be sad, or will he get caught in this string of sadness too?

Posting with love and loads of apologies,

JustAnotherWriter/Ri-chi


	5. Chapter 5 - Meetings

A loud deafening noise reached Otto's ears. Had something exploded? Was there an attack on the house? Had there been thunder crash and lightning flash right above them? Holy Rome wanted to rip out his ears at the sound.

He realized it was his heart beating loudly, blocking out all voice and reason. His wide eyes darted about frantically, to Roderich, then to Elizaveta, then to his brother, then finally to –

_My brother and my lover. I think I have been sent to spend the rest of my immortal life walk the realm of fire, sadness, agony: Hell._

White hot pain gripped his muscles, making his head feel as heavy as lead but as tender and fragile as glass. His mind was surely playing tricks with him.

_Germany? The _western _half to complete Gilbert's east? He's right there in the doorway, you dunce._

And right behind him was an Italian, crying softly.

Flush face marred with the flowing waterfall from _his_ big, beautiful amber orbs, brown hair askew, expression melancholic and weary, and that strange curl straying away from the rest of its crown. Clothes wrinkled every which way, feet together, hands trembling and clutching on to the larger for protection.

_But maybe this is Romano, you coward. Maybe not that sweet, beautiful girl you have met before this time – it couldn't possibly be. No it cannot. But the possibility… they look alike in almost every way imaginable._

No!

_Chibitalia's brother was a feisty boy, not known to cry. Strong-willed, powerful, not like the person wailing like a child behind my kin. So could it really be…? No! No! No! No!_

Holy Rome, Otto, did not want to face this again, interlocked in a battle of heart versus mind. He had done this before, once upon a time. So he did the only thing he could to try and regain composure.

He darted out of the room.

He thanked Elizaveta quietly. He was out of the area within a few seconds, speed and agility endowed to him through bitter years of training with the Hungarian woman in the dead of the night. He did not know where he was going, and the manor was huge, he could easily get lost in the maze of corridors, hallways and dead ends.

OoOoOoO

His headache increased tenfold in his frustration; his brain wasn't ready for more stress than it can handle. He knew it, he was at a dead end in a large house with little to no windows, and he managed to be at his weakest within an hour of sunset. There was no way; he couldn't escape from the situation downstairs.

So as much as he hated it, he trudged back to a room nearer to the stairs, but still far enough that he was fully sure that no one would look for him.

His eyes were red and puffy, there was no use stopping any tears. He saw a "bathroom" as Gilbert showed him, right near this bedroom as he was searching for something to hide in. But there was still that door next to the armoire in the room. It could have been a "bathroom" but back in his days, there were no "bathrooms" near their bedchambers. He dismissed the thought and went out into the hallway.

Once outside of the room, he ran his hand across the cream coloured wall. It was yellowing with age, and probably needed to be worked on soon. He walked his way down the hall carefully analysing the doors he came across.

_One of them has to be a "bathroom", I saw it earlier. Was it that door on the left side of the end of the hall?_

He checked the inside of a room once in a while, whenever he felt like it was the one. He looked at the large window at the end of the corridor.

The soft light of the setting sun illuminated more than half of the hall, giving the dark floors a rich orange tint. The paint on the walls mixed with the rays, beautiful in sight. The previously unnoticed paintings shone and glistened with their jewel encrusted frames.

The window was open, and in came a cool breeze, and sent the white curtains on their dance with the wind. The smell of forest greens and rain wafted through Otto's senses, making him waver ever so slightly, like he was being teased.

It did not help that Otto saw the vast expanse of land beneath him, stretching on for miles. The trees looked dark against the sky. A canvas the heavens were, an entrancing mix of fiery reds, warming yellows, it was not purely a tangerine colour. There were even hints of a light sky blue, along with darker shades of violet and midnight blue in the painting. An artist, spilling his paint, a wonderful creation. With the wonderful green of the grass, and the sea of colourful flowers, Otto felt like it was all but a dream, a time of peace.

_I wish that it could stay like this, an illusion of the mind. So peaceful, I lay to rest in this place, to escape every problem I have, that no worries are to be remembered. Like meeting with the masters of the heavens, and laying here to sleep._

He could forget the worries of a nation, of immortality, of sadness, of rejection, of _love_.

He would meet with his love in a dream, and stay there in eternal sleep, untouched, undisturbed.

But alas, it was real, but it was intangible.

Otto knew this and turned to the door on the left, turning away from the dreams, going back into reality.

OoOoOoO

"Otto!"

By the time the blond left the room, his brother had woken up to a blaring headache and a bump to his head. He rubbed the spot where the Hungarian woman hit him. It hurt like hell, and it was so fucking un-awesome. He nearly cursed her and the Austrian next to her, but then he noticed two others at the door and another one missing.

He turned his gaze to Ludwig, then to the brunet behind him, and then his eyes searched the room, finding a missing Holy Roman Empire. He looked at Austria and Hungary, whose backs were turned to the door, but no doubt were shocked.

What happened when he was knocked out? And who had screamed his brother's name afterwards?

His eyes widened in realization.

_This is what I wanted to prevent! Dammit, why does everything I fucking plan today end up un-awesomely wrong? Really West, you and Italy couldn't have arrived at a better time. I fucking love you both so fucking much…_

Gilbert stood up and ran to the stairs that led up to the second floor.

_Seriously what the fuck – _

"What the – ! Let me go Hungary!" he said, trying to pry off the said nation's hand from his wrist. His struggling made her grip tighter at his flesh, flashing a warning look towards him.

"Don't go, after him." she said, voice low. Gilbert stared at her in disbelief, and Roderich opened his mouth to talk.

"Elizaveta is right, Gilbert, he needs to be alone."

"Why?"

Elizaveta looked like she wanted to smack the albino with her frying pan again. Of all the time in the world, why must he be denser than a certain Italian at the doorway? She whispered angrily, to which Roderich nodded in agreement.

"He's dealing with heartbreak, you retard."

OoOoOoO

Meanwhile, the two other people left out of the conversation stood there, both wondering about what the trio were talking about, and why the other one earlier acted that way.

_To run away like that, why would he? But isn't he the same guy from the park? The one who caused a ruckus in line for an ice cream cone? And he was also the one that acted strange and manic._

Germany closed his eyes and shook his head.

_I mean, Italy a girl? Was he blind? And how did he know who Italy was – and how on earth he managed to find out what Italy was?_

Ludwig did not expect any of this.

He was dragged around by Feliciano to all over Berlin, and his money had nearly been spent on pointless things that the Italian wanted. But then again, why did he allow himself to spend so much?

Oh that was right, because the nation in question was ready drop to the floor and whimper like a baby. No not because of those beautiful amber eyes that stared into his soul. Nothing like that.

When he returned back to his home outside the city, he didn't expect someone else tagging along with him. He just wanted to go get a shower, finish the rest of his paperwork, and rest himself. He knew that that was only a far cry from reality. With Gilbert around to cause shenanigans, he was cursed to _never_ get anything done. He expected the ex-nation to be on the floor, drunk as ever, or out partying with Francis and Antonio, or in a bar trying to pick girls up and try to get them to go with him to a hotel.

Part of his expectations came true. Gilbert had been on the floor, but by a frying pan to the back of the head, probably because of another one of the albino's ass remarks about Roderich or Elizaveta. Or both.

He half expected the Dual Monarchy to be in his house, granted because of Gilbert's (probably drunk) rampage of Austria's house.

What he didn't expect, however, was the maniac from the park to be with them. He didn't expect to meet him and have him turn around and run.

He motioned for the Italian behind him to go inside and sit down while the two were talking. Feliciano nodded, but Ludwig was fairly sure he was staring blankly at the other end of the room.

_What relations does Italy have with that man? Why is he so affected by this? He's never acted like this before, not around him._

The German felt something in the pit of his stomach, but he brushed it off and sat at one of the many blue couches in the room. Italy followed suit.

However, something else was in his mind.

_H-Holy Roman E-Empire…?_

OoOoOoO

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Otto wiped his face with the cotton towel hanging on a hook next to the "sink". Even though he had seen this before, with Gilbert, he was still amazed at the contraption.

_I-it… it's making water flow out. And it's clean, pure water! Not unlike the creeks back then. Some even had frogs in them, and they were dead! Disgusting! And that's not even the worst…_

He analysed his face again. The tear stains he had unknowingly created were gone, and his eyes had become better. His throat wasn't dry anymore, and he could no longer taste the saltiness of his tears.

He was annoyed.

_Why is it that every time I cross paths with those… those two downstairs… it always ends up in tears? Could I not be more of a man and accept it? Why? Why? Why…?_

He looked at himself in the mirror one last time and left for the room he had picked earlier.

OoOoOoO

Italy squirmed in his seat.

He'd been to Ludwig's house before, many times already, but he still couldn't get himself not to be scared at immense size of the German's house. But that wasn't the only thing that bugged him.

His eyes flashed to the bookcases on the wall to his far left. They were a beautiful rich brown that contrasted greatly with the colourful books they housed. The wood curved, forming the intricate design of the bookcases. Feliciano could see the yellowing pages of many documents and articles many years ago.

_Yellowed with age… why does this remind me of _him_?_

He was deep in thought and busy. The country wasn't doing well. His mind battled with him.

"_Why, thinking of Holy Ro – "_

_Be quiet!_

"_Why so, Feliciano? I thought that… long ago you wanted him to come back home? He's here is he not?"_

_What are you talking about? Holy Rome is…_

"_What? You still doubt that is him? Are you trying to push him away now that you have Ger – "_

_I am not! I promised… we promised each other… but he couldn't be – not now…_

"_But what if – "_

"Shut up!"

Feliciano's scream brought everyone to a stop. Roderich, Elizaveta, and Gilbert looked up from their huddle of conversation. Ludwig whipped his head towards Feliciano. All of them were wide-eyed and speechless, mouths agape.

"What… what happened, Italy?"

Feliciano woke up from the daze he made for himself. Amber met azure. He could feel his tears slowly coming together again, ready to fall with one touch. Ludwig stared at the Italian.

He awkwardly returned the hug the nation gave him, and tried running his hands through the brunet's hair in an attempt to calm him down. "It will be alright, Italia." Ludwig said, in the most comforting tone he could try, confused himself as to what he was saying, "Everything will be fine…"

OoOoOoO

Otto set himself down on the large royal blue bed of the room. He ran a hand through his hair, hopelessly trying to ease his pounding head. This was getting difficult, and this was his first day awake.

_What would happen to me tomorrow if I can only barely survive this day?_

"This is so… frustrating!" he said, angrily flipping himself over on the bed, "Why can't anything ever go right? Why do I…" he said, face buried in the mattress, fist hammering down on the bed, "Why do I keep breaking whenever I meet that Italian downstairs?"

He kept his hand until his knuckles turned white. The sun had set a few minutes ago, breaking his dream and bringing him back to the realm of the mortals. He whispered to himself, as the smell of sweets wafted through his nose.

"Why is love so hard…?"

OoOoOoO

_They finally parted after what seemed like eons, but in truth were only a few seconds. Otto touched his lips; the soft feeling had lingered for a while longer._

"_Holy Rome…?"_

_He faced the girl in front of him. Her dress swayed in the wind, and so did his clothes. She looked beautiful. "Yes, Felice?"_

"_Are you really leaving…?" she said, tears in her eyes, face still dusted a bright pink._

_Otto gulped. He was, he said to himself. He couldn't bear to part with her, and he couldn't tell her the awful truth. He simply nodded, and tears threatened to fall, after he saw her grip her dress tightly and cry._

"_If so," she said, reaching for her deck brush, "Have this!" She thrust the broom towards him and blushed a deep shade of pink. Holy Rome stood dumbfounded, but nonetheless took the brush from her hand. "So you won't forget me when we meet again."_

_Now it was his turn to blush. "I-Italia…" he stuttered out, "I-I – "_

"_Holy Roman Empire!" a voice cried out in the distance._

_No, not now. Not right now. War had finally come to my doorstep, but please, spare me a day. Just so I can say goodbye…_

_The shouting had grown louder, and Otto knew it was time. No matter how he silently wished to stay, no matter how much he wanted not to go, he had too, for the good of his people. Now wasn't a time to be selfish._

_And with a quick goodbye, he left._

_Chibitalia cried after him. "I'll make sweets, while I wait for your return!"_

OoOoOoO

Hello! Another chapter, see? School just started for me again last January 3, but I typed most of this when I was still on vacation. And why did I put that last bit in there? It will be in the next chapter!

No it's not because this is getting too long for me. No not that, it's only nearing 3000 words.

Why did Germany act like that? Is it because he is jea – *shot by said German*

JustAnotherWriter


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